


that which cannot be seen, cannot be heard, cannot be taken from us

by sassastrophe (regulardudetier)



Series: i was laying on the sofa and you were fanning me [2]
Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: M/M, gryles which turns into larry which eventually turns into tomlinshaw i promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-12
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-20 23:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/590621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regulardudetier/pseuds/sassastrophe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it's 2013 and they've just finished their second tour and nick and harry still aren't a thing and louis and harry still are kind of, but maybe louis doesn't want a "kind of" relationship, he wants a "settled down" relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i promise that this will be tomlinshaw. i promise.

"and i know i'm a sucker for blue eyes but i told him to fuck off all the same. it's for the best, honestly."

except that it's not for the best, and it's nick's third fling in the past _month_. his third fuck-and-kick-out and even though he'd promised himself he'd start  _attempting_  to settle down, none of his three past partners had been anywhere enar 'settling down material'. aimee pat his back, handed him the brown mug with the sheep on it that she'd gotten him for christmas once (and he never used it again) and gave him his three favorite words: "get over it."

he would. eventually. he would get over the shit he put himself through on a constant and move on to the next ballroom beauty he would pick up at a local bar or club or on the street. such was the life of a twenty eight year old radio DJ (a job which _happened_ to entail being the breakfast show host of radio 1, only a little bit of a big deal and his dream since, like, forever). but right now he wanted to wallow in depression and loneliness and drown his sorrows in cheap booze and a ten hour friends marathon. he was almost done with the box set which had also been a gift from aimee for christmas ("you're rachel and i'm monica. you'll find your ross and he'll be just as much of a mess as you are, nick." the words had seemed so comforting that night, right up until nick spat out a retort of "so i'm going to fuck your brother, basically" and the night had been ruined). 

an hour into the marathon (complete with a brand new drinking game he was sure _no one_ had ever heard of before), nick's phone buzzed to the tune of the rolling stone's _sympathy for the devil_ , indicating a call from none other than boy band sensation and one of his better pals, harry styles. 

"so we're home from germany."

"i saw. did you know i have thousands of harry styles fangirls following me on twitter and constantly tweeting me? they still think we're dating."

"we kind of are, minus the romance and stuff."

"that was one- we aren't talking about this. i'm wounded, harold." he puts emphasis on the word, finally reaching for the remote and pausing during a painful rendition of phoebe's smelly cat. "jeremy left."

there's a shout on the other line in the back ground, before "aimee told me you told him to fuck off."

"what does aimee know" because honestly all he wanted right now is sympathy from _someone_. "whatever. tomay-to, tomah-to. i'm alone again, come over."

it was another second or two of shouting, this time much closer to the phone and much more feminine and high pitched than he ever remembered harry's voice being, and he heard rustling on the other end of the line; a bittersweet tone ringing in his ears with a mouth that must be far too close to the phone's microphone "sorry, mate. harry's busy. stuff to do, people to see. hope you'll understand. he'll talk to you later. cheers!" 

nick takes a stunned second to realize he'd been hung up on, rewiring the words in his head "cheers, then."

\--

they'd just come back from germany completely exhausted, but it's not like the label cared. they have a good week off before they start more traveling and more interviews solely for the upcoming movie release and it had only been two weeks since they'd gotten back from los angeles before being whisked away to other worldy parts of europe for signings and radio shows.

and louis did what he does best each and every time: gripe. there was nothing security hated more than louis complaining and acting like a child at a mere 21 (four months to 22) years old. he couldn't help it, it was just part of his character ("i'm jus saying, lou, maybe if you stopped being such a brat-" "brat? wow, thanks liam. thought we were friends.") and he enjoyed every second of it. and and it made the grueling moments quite more interesting and a least bit more enduring for the other lads as well.

he walked into the house, shouting a quick "home!" and found harry standing at the stove top, half naked with a towel wrapped dangerously low on his hips and the tips of an inked rose peeking out from his left hip bone. louis licked his lips, toeing his way over to the lanky teen before he saw the way his head had been tipped over, phone held neatly in between his jaw and shoulder. "aimee told me you told him to fuck off." 

louis sighed dramatically, huffing loud enough that harry turned around almost startled, pointing to his phone and mouthing _nick_ and louis simply rolled his eyes. he didn't really have a problem with the radio host, but he got sick of the man constantly stealing harry away from him every other minute of the day. if it wasn't harry at the radio 1 studios, it was nick at the house or harry on the phone or nick at the clubs djing on a late saturday night to crystal castles remixes. the man was an enigma, an infection; a horrible case of pneumonia that never went away but sort of stayed in a dormant phase. nick had his perks, like having helped zayn get tickets to the weeknd at the supperclub when they'd unexpectedly sold out while the band was touring in america. he helped harry curb his ridiculous tattoo obsession in late march by convincing him to end on a bright note with a gorgeous rose on his left hip, one that louis actually loved more than anything (harry had gone and gotten a small dandelion on his right hip bone to contradict the rose soon after). nick had been there for the three or so years they'd kind of known each other, two since he and harry had actually become friends. he shared every ridiculous moment with harry and the other boys too.

the problem with nick came after rumors that he and harry had been sleeping together started circulating the internet (they weren't false louis came to find out) and nick ended up basically officially outing harry on national radio at seven in the morning to a bunch of sleepless brits and insomniac american teenage females. fortunately, it hadn't hurt sales or anything too seriously but it had put harry in the most awkward situation. not only did he have to deal with the many articles of which woman he was linked to week one or week two but there were now small articles of which man he was linked to. but he and nick continued to see each other in the shadows, right up until nick had confronted him about them solely being "friends with benefits" and it all sort of ended there. louis had always been upset on harry's behalf, though. for the radio thing, the breaking of his heart, harry never let any emotions publicly known but louis always sort of _knew_.

he made for the phone, harry pulling away and covering the microphone with his hand as louis shouted "get off the fucking phone" and harry combated with "no he _needs_ me" in a whining tone and after kicking him in the knee, louis grabbed the phone.  "sorry, mate! harry's gotta go" briefly ending the phone call there without so much of a word from nick.

"fucking christ, lou" harry mumbled, ruffling a hand through his still slightly wet head of curls and frowning. louis only smiled sheepishly, closing the small distance between the two and cupping his hands on harry's jawline. "he's such a mess tonight" he mumbled into louis' lips, kissing him sweetly and small, laughing at the eased-away tension. 

louis kept close to harry, wrapping one hand to the small of his back and the other reaching for the cabinet directly behind him. "was he ever not a mess?" and, yeah, he loves picking on nick as much as he can get away with. 

harry lowered his head onto louis' shoulder, leaning in to kiss his neck and bite at his ears with a bent back. "easy sailor. we're not ones to talk."

which was true. after the whole debacle with nick and harry's forceful coming out and harry basically becoming less of a chick magnet because it was a known fact that he slept with at least one guy, louis broke up with eleanor and told her to "find a nice quiet uni boy who doesn't jet off to the americas every week and let him buy you posh clothing and dinner dates every night" because he actually really did love eleanor, but he wasn't one hundred percent as _happy_ as he'd let on. and louis was there for harry from then on. first it was mostly more cuddling than they'd been doing, more flirting and more dangerous jokes on stage, before one night a drunk louis cornered harry in an empty hotel bathroom and kissed him (they'd kissed before. but it sort of meant something to louis this time. and it meant something to harry). kissing led to other things and then he and harry were in this weird relationship-but-not-quite thing that he was happy with. they moved back in with each other into a nice house with a pool and a tennis court and that had been it. 

but they were a mess because louis didn't want to have _feelings_ for harry and he didn't want harry to have feelings for him, and when harry confessed that he sort of loved louis one night, they stopped really talking for a week. fans sent them messages and tweets of upset, things like _why don't you look at each other during interviews_ or _what happened to larry stylinson_ and everything fell apart. louis got drunk again and shouted and screamed and also apologized that everything was his fault for sort of running away, and they fell into the pattern once more. but without the whole love. they just became harry and louis living in a house together who occasionally kissed and always cuddled, but never anything more. 

"i know" he muttered, setting the kettle on and grabbing for his favorite box of gold. harry twisted himself away from louis, saying something about going to put on clothes, and louis was left alone in the kitchen.

with harry's phone, he forgot. it buzzed once, twice, three times, and louis couldn't resist unlocking it (2-4-1-2, louis had changed the passcode to his birthday one night and harry never changed it back). 

_come to mine tonight? aimee making dinner x_

_also tell louis he can come too_

_and that he's a right twat for cutting off our lovely phone call_

his mouth twisted into a horrible grin-slash-frown-slash-pout, nick's name bolded above the messages. he couldn't stop himself, really. he pressed the call button, because harry took ages to change and do his hair and look pretty.

\--

he let the phone ring twice before he picked it up, laughing. "done with seeing people and doing things?"

"i'm not a twat."

nick blinked, rubbing his eyes and staring down at the phone to make sure it _was_ harry who called him. or at least, harry's phone. "sorry? who's this?"

there was an unhappy sigh. "louis. and i'm not a twat. i'll be there. harry's changing. took a shower." and then a sharp intake of breath and a "fuck!" and nick heard lots of metal clambering and what he thought was the sound of _something_ breaking, before "got to go. we'll be there at seven" and once again, nick had been hung up on by louis tomlinson.

louis tomlinson was this sort of thing. this sort of twenty-one year old thing that came along with harry, like the unwanted free holiday gift if you spent over $100 online. louis was small and curvy and high-maintenance and high-tempered and simply _delicious_ with coiffed hair and stubble and gorgeous blue eyes. nick fawned over him silently the first time they'd ever met, back when louis was only eighteen and a hopeful contestant in a boy band that he thought for sure was going to win x factor. but when nick had actually met the boys, befriended them in a way during a dinner party, he realized that louis wasn't apart of the boy band, he was just a sort of side dish. he latched onto harry the first night, drinking and cheering along. 

throughout the years that nick had grown to know harry and the other boys, louis continued to be almost there. he was sort of off stage for the first album, his voice hadn't really been deemed solo worthy and nick figured it out after the first ten listen throughs. he thought louis' voice was rough and sweet, different. it was nothing compared to the talents of his bandmates but it wasn't terrible. and then louis sort of woke up and there was a lot more of _him_ on the second album, a lot more of that rough and sweet and off putting talent. he hadn't really gotten to talk to louis the first time they showed up at the teen awards, but the past year he'd gotten the pleasure to be on stage with them a couple more times and even throw out a little banter. 

after all of that, nick started seeing less of one direction and more of harry and things got a little complicated. he started _seeing_ the pop star, coffee dates and movie dates and formal dinner party dates and early morning phone calls and then there was kissing and sleepovers and a really messy handjob in the janitor's closet at the studio and the whole thing sort of exploded in his face right around the end of december. somehow, word got around that they weren't just close friends, more than friends, lovers, lots of slander. harry hid at nick's every night, ignoring the constant phone calls and reporters and deactivating his twitter for a week until nick got on the show one night and "i can tell you this he's definitely not a womanizer in any sort of way" to an unsuspecting caller. 

things had been really really rough for harry the next week, considering their tour was supposed to start at the O2 in a month. constant interviews, photoshoots, management pissing on him every which way. but he and nick continued hanging out, 'dating', until one day nick decided he didn't want to treat harry like a child and basically told him it was over. harry had been strong and resilient, but louis wrote him a few choice words via text message and that was the only thing that sort of told nick _no, louis hates you_. but then louis and harry started 'dating' and he knew how hard harry fell for people, and that ended in a shit show as well. harry had called him plenty of times half-assed drunk crying about why louis didn't love him and all these things.

harry was a mess. but with harry came louis and nick sort of got over it. he enjoyed talking to louis, picking at him every so often when they were in interviews or the group hanging out and louis ended up tagging along. he was still delicious, but he was also dangerous. 

"aims, they're coming at seven. make us sunday roast and lots and lots of wine!" and although no answer came back from the kitchen, he could hear the pantry doors swinging open and shut and muffled cursing. his marathon continued, and for a brief moment nick thought of piecing together their own sitcom ("i'm monica and harry is ross and louis has to be rachel, aimee you can be chandler, perfect!").

\--

seven thirty. "honestly, bloody pop stars. bloody teenagers. making us wait so long." nick was hungry and when he was hungry, he also got a little moody. cranky. he also had been holding out on breaking into the wine bottles until the other two got there and that sort of put him on edge. no alcohol and no food and no happy nicholas. aimee laughed, tapping her gold and glittered designer nails on the back of the dinner chairs, in time with a loud knocking. "fucking _finally_."

the dinner is nice. a little awkward, but nice. harry mostly talks about germany and the intense amount of fans that came from all over to see them huddled around a small signing table in cologne and the presents they were brought ("niall got a whole case of german beer, zayn got this weird designer t-shirt none of us really understood. liam got a pair of earrings for danielle, they got engaged by the way, and louis" he laughs, louis turns a shade of pink "louis got a box of carrots drawn on to look like the band. i got a box of chocolates") and the horrible nonstop three hour session of interviews they had with a total of ten minutes break time between them all. louis stays unusually quiet, nodding and chuckling along with harry and batting his mile-high eyelashes over those glazed blue eyes, fringe sticking up into what could become a quiff but more of a 'i wasn't even trying' sort of style, and even that looks perfect on him. 

aimee brings in a black forest cake that she picked up during her grocery spree and cuts it into frozen pieces for each person at the table. nick delves into what he'd been doing for the past week, leaving ("jared? jake? shit") out of every single story. they sip on glasses of half chilled wine and watch a cheesy comedy and harry doesn't stop talking through the entire thing, ladled over nick like a blanket. louis sits in an armchair, quiet and warm with thurston resting in his lap, and aimee sits at the bar with a pink martini she'd made herself. it's homely and wonderful, nick thinks, even if a bit awkward. his eyes flutter to louis every so often, and around eleven or so he has both a sleeping harry and a sleeping louis. 

"get up you two, lazy cunts" he lectured, pushing harry off of his lap and shuffling over to the armchair where louis was slumbering. he leaned over, put his hands on either side of the boy's shoulders and shook him softly, whispering "don't you dare drool on my duvet" and louis snapped to attention; thurston jumped off of him in an alarmed bark, scraping the inside of louis' thighs with doggy nails. "and you, clean up the kitchen, wench." aimee scoffed, setting down her glass and flipping him off before waltzing into the kitchen. louis rubbed his eyes in a way that was almost _too_ wonderful, _too_ terrible, and nick had to turn to face his attention to harry who was stretching and yawning, shirt riding up to reveal "is that a fucking tattoo on your hip?"

"course it is, nick. you convinced me to get it." 

"no you prick, on your other hip. when the hell did you get that?" it was way too past his bed time. 

harry frowned, pouted, scrunched his eyebrows and looked down at his right hip. "oh, yea. it was too empty. roses are too beautiful, i needed a bit of ugly on the other side. weeds aren't beautiful, nick. some weird balancing act, i don't know. it sounded good at the time."

nick agreed that the dandelion did compliment his other hip quite well, but he was upset. and tired. and cranky. and had to get up in six hours to get ready for work. "out! out the two of you, i've got work in the morning and you two have to make the most of your break."

"oh piss off." nick wheeled around to the source of the voice, realizing it was louis who hadn't really spoken for the entirety of the night. at least, not to _him_. "he got it because he _missed_ _you_ , so stop bitching."

and _oh_ , he hadn't really thought it that way. harry tugged his jumper down to cover what was already covered, hide what was already hidden, and nick rolled his eyes. "we'll head out then, grimmy. have a good show, yeah?" harry dug around in his pocket, grabbing for his keys and holding an arm out for louis who took it experimentally, walked past nick with a horrible scowl on his face. nick was still sort of trying to figure out how the night had been so nice and pleasant and suddenly he'd angered his best mate and his best mate's best mate and he was just _so fucking tired and cranky_. "night" harry croaked, ushering both he and louis out the front door of the flat.

aimee came back, scolding him for acting out of turn and for being a little bitch and sent him to take a relaxing spa bath with the new set of salts she'd bought, and he did so. and finally around one or so, he managed to pass out to the sound of the dog snoring, the thoughts of waking up in four hours looming horribly over his head. 

his phone indicated seven text messages around three am, giving him a horrible pitted stomach as he got dressed and ready for work. today was already shit, and all he wanted to do was go back to sleep.

**2.59** : _Nick I'm so sorry for last night I really am. xx_

**3.01** : _Aimee called the minute we left and said you were just anxious to see me or something._

**3.06** : _I missed you too._

**3.10** : _and Louis really doesn't hate you._

**3:10** : _Just thought I'd clear that up._

**3.17** : _Have a good show x._

**4.13** : _Louis wants to have lunch with you, by the way._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lied about it being two parts, so yeah. not sure how long it'll be! :'(

somehow during the week, nick managed to lose track of time and suddenly monday morning became tuesday at noon became wednesday five in the morning. and nick was wide awake with dev's voice blasting in his ear, a screeching rihanna (he'd make a comment about this during the show, mental note) waking him up. he wasn't sure how he messed up this badly, how the last day had become such a _blur_ that he didn't even see a blur he just sort of saw nothing. he saw sunday night's debacle and then monday night's attempt at fixing with harry texting him and asking to be on the show this week (had that happened?) and then it was wednesday. he also saw four new texts and about six missed calls from harry yesterday afternoon and nick wondered if he'd ever responded. a quick glance through the conversation and no, no he hadn't. 

Tuesday:  
 **17.46** : _You're being a child Nick, please answer your phone._  
 **17.53** : _Aimee says you're already drunk?  
_ **18.02** : _If that's true it wasn't even that big of a deal._  
 **21.26** : _call me x_

and he didn't know if he actually ended up calling harry or not but there weren't any calls made to harry since monday and it was kind of ridiculous, he had no idea what harry was even talking about. wasn't a big deal? what wasn't? he didn't know if he'd actually talked to harry since sunday and that really sucked because he _liked_ harry and the last thing he wanted was any sort of falling out with him. especially after something so dumb like sunday night.

**5.08** : _**call me when u get this xx**_

he slathered boysenberry spread onto two slices of toast and pulled a bottle of orange juice from the fridge, writing a quick post-it note for aimee because there was _bacon_ on the stove and she only puts bacon on the stove when it's been a bad week. so he'd probably have to hound her about what happened later. she knows everything.

the cabbie came around at it's usual schedule and nick relentlessly scrolled through his phone, switching between SMS messages and BBM messages and recent phone calls. there was no sort of proof that anything happened yesterday save for harry's four discreet text and no simple reminder as to why he drained so much of his best wines. he dropped into the office, waving at dev and the team and settling himself up for another day of radio show.

"you've got that call or delete today, the, uh, the one with harry. from yesterday." matt shoved a to-do list into his palm, nick eyeing it briefly. it was a short script, just the things he had to remember to touch on by certain times, simple stuff. and yeah, there it is. call or delete with harry styles. he did that yesterday. he does remember that, he remembers-

"fuck. fuck shit, fuck! fuck."

"oi! easy! not so close where the mic can pick you up! what's going on?"

nick rubbed a hand tiredly over his face, groaning. "harry, call or delete. he landed on louis. and asked him to go on a date with me. and." everything was rushing back to him almost immediately, ian breaking into a hysterical fit of laughter. "and it wasn't good and i drank a lot of alcohol and took a few sleeping pills and i'm surprised i'm not hungover right now. shit. _shit_."

as cliched and horrible as it had been, he really was surprised that harry had truthfully landed on louis and it wasn't just some stunt to get them to play a dumb prank on nick of all people. harry jested that he couldn't delete louis' number simply because he didn't know it by heart and so nick rolled his eyes, kept the recording going as they sort of brainstormed an idea to trick louis with. but harry had the look in his eye, the dangerous look that was wicked and terrible and trickster. the one that sort of led to nick telling harry to fuck off because they called louis and the conversation was less than stellar.

"how's you?"  
"...good. why're you calling? i just saw you an hour ago."  
"i'm with nick." (it's here that nick punches harry in the arm, spitting " _don't ruin the game_ " and harry swatting at nick because he _was_ playing along) "he says hi."  
"er. hello. look, babe, can this be quick? i've got to head out in about five and-"  
"he wants to take you out for lunch. to apologize for sunday night and all." (nick punches his arm even harder this time, hoping for a bruise. matt and ian are both crumpled against each other, fiona trying so hard to stay sane and subtle. nick flips them all off and attempts to not yell and ruin everything).  
there's silence and nick wonders if louis hung up. "like. a lunch date?" (and how the _hell_ did louis automatically assume it was a date?)  
"yes." (" _fuck you, harry_ ")   
"oh. um. alright. have him call me then? i've got to go. love you both."

nick hadn't even wanted to continue with the game, knew he next step was to call louis and apologize and proclaim that it was all a joke and take it back and laugh at it as he'd slip into a track of the wanted as a clean practical joke. but he was too focused, currently, on _beating the ever loving shit out of harry_.

"call him back. tell him it's a joke" he croaked dryly, lacking the usual humor from his tone. he was pissed. "call him back _right now_ or else." no one pointed out that this was all still on tape.

and harry only laughed at his response, found the situation too hilarious to be real. but after a minute of laughing and nothing from nick, his smile disappeared. "hold on, you aren't serious right? oh come on, grow up. it was funny, you owe him anyways. you always treat him like dirt and maybe if you two spent time together it wouldn't-"

"don't you think if i wanted to ask him out on a lunch date i'd do it, oh say, not on _national fucking radio_? because we all know how fucking well that went last time." he didn't mean it. he really didn't. he hated bringing up the whole harry issue. 

but harry didn't stumble, didn't fall. he was only sort of upset. "get over it. you'll live. call him up yourself, ask him out. take him to your fancy cafes or something and eat and apologize and promise you'll never see each other again or you'll forget it all happened or maybe! maybe you two can just work together and maybe you'll both stop being such dry fucking pricks all the time. have hot make up sex with him! he's good at-"

"fuck off, harry." it was here that nick began punching a few buttons, playing with the sliders and all the different settings on the radio setup even though there was nothing to do because it was only one in the afternoon and they were only in the side studio recording for the call or delete. there was no real radio for nick, no distractions. he ignored the immense quiet in the room, focusing only on his steady breathing.

harry looked at nick, looked at matt, looked at ian and fiona, all who simply shrugged, and then tore back to nick. when nothing happened, when nick refused to look at him, he stood, grabbed his phone from the desk and shoved it in his back pocket "you're being a real fucking child, you know that? sometimes i hardly feel the youngest when i'm around you" and then he did exactly what nick told him to do. he fucked off. he slammed the door of the studio, leaving nick at the mic setup alone and the others in hiding. nick pressed the last button he needed, ending the recording session and thanking god they hadn't been live on the radio that moment.

the rest of the day sort of flooded back to him. he'd gone home, spent the afternoon in woe and bubbly champagne baths and lots of merlot and pinot noir and then grey goose cocktails and at some point even tequila. he ran the rest of the friends marathon, still trying to wonder how he pushed away one of his closest friends as he passed out near eight pm. and then.

here he was.

"we can't air that mess! shit. we only did one round. we can't air that. finchy _help_." he was a mess, the clock dangerously close to his six thirty call time. 

matt had stopped laughing ages ago, frowning suddenly. he ran a hand through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck. "look. just. just run the sheet through and do everything normally and by seven forty-five we'll get you something to work with. we'll. we'll figure it out. just breathe. it's not a big deal. we can use an old one. people will get over it. not a big deal." except that it was a big deal because nick had been working as the breakfast show host for over a year now and things like this only happened the first week or so, not when it was a _year_ and he should know how to be more professional and deal with shit like this on a regular basis. but he threw up his hands in outcry, grabbing his set of headphones as dev waved him through the door of the studio with a "here's grimmy with the breakfast show, be extra nice to him today!" and set up a song to auto play as tina began her news segment.

"right. well. i know everyone was well looking forward to the brand new call or delete with our dear harry styles today, but. we ran into a bit of a snag, so we're going to play an old call or delete segment! yay! with..." matt handed him a post-it, leaving nick with a scrunched up face and tossing a biro at the man. "...with harry styles. this one's from my old night show! very funny stuff. listen to lovely sam teasdale talk about me." he pressed play on the track, balling up the piece of paper and throwing it towards the bin in the corner, flipping off his producer. 

\--

"i knew he wouldn't play it! that little shit." harry twisted the knob on the radio off, huffing and tossing a pillow off the bed in anguish.

louis only mumbled something soft, wrapping an arm around harry's naked waist and tugging at him, pressing cold fingers into the younger boy's side. "play what?" with a yawn.

harry grabbed for louis' hand, entwining their fingers and laying back in the plush comforter beside louis. "well," he dragged on. "we sort of. um. remember how i said i was hanging with nick yesterday? which is. which is true." louis raised an eyebrow suspiciously, harry continuing on. "we sort of. we played call or delete. and. and i landed on you-"

"harry fucking styles. that was a joke? that entire thing was a joke?" louis now sat up, unraveling himself from harry and eyes wide and red.

"wait, you. you look a little, uh. disappointed."

"of course i'm fucking disappointed, i'm-"

"wait you _wanted_ to go on a date with nick?" and yeah, harry's just a little confused. louis is half asleep but he just doesn't understand what's going on. this louis who he sort of thought hated nick. or at least strongly disliked. he knew louis had never _liked_ nick after all the shit that had happened. and louis only shook his head, more mumbling under his breath. he threw the blanket off of his body, swinging his legs around the bed and (harry could see it happen, even without facing him) rolled his eyes. 

louis _was_ disappointed though, stumbling into the bathroom. he had kind of looked forward to the date. mostly because it was nick's apology and he'd milk it for all it was worth, including dessert. but there was this nagging in the back of his head, an _actual_ bit of disappointment. it had been a real while since louis had honestly dated anyone, gone on a date with anyone, been with anyone that wasn't harry and he wasn't even _with_ harry in the sense that he truly wanted. 

he just. he wanted to start looking for a relationship that could last for more than two years. because one direction wasn't as hot as they were, even with the movie. they weren't on top of the world anymore, they'd been used and abused and gone through everything to prove that they had pretty much broken the world. and louis was waiting for the after shock of settling down and going into hiding or at least just being that washed up pop star stalked by the paparazzi because he's a has-been-never-will-be-again or something. 

and not that he thought nick was the type for that, but really. a date with _anyone_ sounded great now. he'd always considered calling eleanor again but she had a new boyfriend and he was actually a great guy (louis met him once at a run-in at selfridges) and he couldn't do that to her, ruin her life again. harry didn't want to be in a long-term relationship, he was never the type of person for it. he just wanted to go with the flow and see what happened. and louis didn't want to wait up for him, even if he knew it wasn't what he wanted anyways. 

"shit, tomlinson. seriously. eight am. eight in the morning. take a shower, go back to sleep. don't. don't worry about this right now." 

and louis was really great at not worrying. kind of. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feedback is appreciated and encouraged thanks! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this one's super short compared to the first two but have a tomlinshaw-sort of-date. lots of talking about harry :) :) :) :)

louis wasn't sure how harry fixed his mistake. but somehow, here louis was on his way to a tea garden deep in primrose to have a lunch date with nick grimshaw. he was dressed pretty smart (" _wear a turtleneck, you look hot in a turtleneck_ " and maroon slacks that sort of outlined his legs in an unnecessary manner and why not a pair of black oxfords) and felt somewhat overjoyed. he didn't care that it was nick. but he was just happy to be on a date, to see a perpetual significant other (or not), to talk to someone who wasn't harry or liam or zayn or niall (as much as he loved them. but he hadn't even really heard from the other boys since the break started).

as the cabbie rounded the cul-de-sac where the small shop was located, louis almost immediately recognized nick hiding (terribly) behind a menu in one of the chairs set up outside. he paid the cab driver and let himself out, brushing himself off for an odd effect and then realized how quiet the area actually was. he had gotten very used to getting out of a car and being mobbed by fans. a year ago, he couldn't step foot into a gas station much less a restaurant without everyone going mad. but this. this was sort of perfect. if any of the shoppers or onlookers knew who he was, they said nothing. they probably recognized him, snapped a photo from afar, but no one actually came up to him, said a word to him. it was. refreshing.

when he strolled over to where nick was and sat himself on the other side of the table, the host lowered the menu and louis was sort of taken aback. so much so that of _course_ he had to give a snarky remark. "for a man that runs around in beat up band tees and dirty painter's slacks, you clean up surprisingly well. all for me?" nick was in a suited blazer and matching pinstriped pants, a rose-colored button down underneath the undone jacket. his hair was quiffed and he sort of looked almost too perfect to be real. 

but he scoffed, "don't flatter yourself, princess. harry called and made sure i dressed appropriately. at least i don't give off _homosexual italian shoe designer_ but i guess that style is all the rage for your boy band type isn't it?"

son of a bitch.

"so what is on task for today, lunch and a movie? romantic stroll through the park? paddle boats? give a girl a hint." louis could give as good as he could take, and he was intent on keeping up this banter.

"i was thinking i would go back to my flat and watch TOWIE and you go back to your flat and make out with your boyfriend," in one fell swoop, "sound good?"

time sort of seemed to stop almost immediately as the waiter came around to their table to ask for a drink order. louis slapped the menu on the table, growing defensive. "harry isn't my boyfriend. jesus, why does everyone think we're together?" he gave the (cute) waiter a standoffish stare, before "give me a glass of your best wine. he's paying." and nick doubled the order and once again they were alone.

and instead of keeping quiet, louis _knew_ , and nick prodded on. "well, you kind of are. or. were. don't think my scandal was the only thing to ever exist. i remember plenty of news articles when you two planned the move-in again. conveniently after harry moved his stuff out of my place with nowhere to go and you broke up with your girlfriend, nice touch might i add. i'm not the bad guy here louis, i'm-"

"harry's in love with me. or. he was. he was in love with me and i just pushed him away and i don't. i don't want him to be in love with me."

"and what's wrong with being in love with you?"

"have you _met_ me nick? jesus, we've known each other for a good few years now. you've seen me enough to know i'm a dramatic prick. i can't be an adult. i'm twenty one for christ's sake and i act like a six year old. i'm not the right type of person for harry." he really didn't want to discuss this, not here and not now and not ever. not with nick grimshaw of all people, either. "i wanted to settle down and harry was just. he wanted to be in love. he didn't know what he really _wanted_."

"you're only twenty one, love. how do _you_ even know what you want?"

the waiter shuffled by again, holding a tray with their two glasses and placing them in front of each male. he raised his brow suspiciously at their conversation, nick shooing him away and claiming they weren't ready yet. "i know what i want. i want a _relationship_.  i want to wake up to the smell of french toast and fall asleep on the couch curled up to the end of our weekly traditional drama and i want to have our _restaurant_ that we go to every thursday night with the great dessert. i want to argue about who's house to visit for sunday roast and worry about trivial things like birthday presents, christmas presents, anniversary gifts." this is not the sort of lunch date conversation he expected to have but nick is nonchalantly sipping his glass of wine and watching louis' explosion of feelings (for crying out loud louis isn't supposed to _have_ feelings). "i just. i want _something_. please say something, i feel like you're about to leave me with the bill and never see me again."

nick showed no real change in emotion and louis was genuinely surprised that he didn't have wine seeping down the front of his top and nick tweeting _he's a horrible date that louis tomlinson_ but instead, nick sets the glass down and cracks his knuckles, leans back in his chair and crosses his legs. "i understand where you're coming from. especially with harry." and louis didn't really expect _that_. "when me and harry were hangin' around and, you know, stuff, he was no more a child than he is now. and i guess at twenty eight or twenty nine, i was feeling the same as you. i've done everything i've wanted in my life in several years, whereas you have done everything you've wanted in about two. you've pretty much lived the life most pop stars live in a very short amount of time and i think you're just at the point where you want to. you know. settle down. have a few kids-" louis glared at him here "-or don't have a few kids, i don't give a shit. and harry is still living in the moment."

now a very unimpressed waitress heads towards their table, "either give the table up or order please" and nick sort of flips her off and points to a pasta dish on the menu asking for a substitution of shrimp instead of chicken. louis gets a blackened chicken caesar and she walks off  with both menus in hand. and nick continued on. "so what did you do exactly when he told you he loved you?"

"erm. i. i sort of. stormed out of the flat. i called zayn and we got really pissed. didn't answer any of harry's calls or texts, didn't really answer anyone's calls or texts. think i passed out at zayn and perrie's and woke up with the worst headache and-" he paused to take a healthy sip of wine. "do you ever wake up and feel like shit? but not randomly. the kind of feeling like shit where you _know_ you did something bad, you don't know what, but you just know. well it felt like that. so i called harry's phone at eight in the morning and he didn't answer. i went back to the flat and he was gone. turns out he'd gone to his mum's right after i'd left. it was horrible." he hated reliving the memory but there had been so much shit and slander thrown right and left during the whole spat that it just felt _good_ to tell the honest truth story that rarely anyone knew. "so he stayed there for a week and i stayed at ours for a week and we didn't talk at rehearsals or interviews unless we absolutely needed to.

"and then one night. one night one fucking night i honestly couldn't handle myself. i got absolutely smashed and cornered him in our hotel room and i yelled at him so much. i blamed myself, blamed him, blamed the fucking dog i blamed everyone. i just. you should have seen his face, nick. it was." louis took a deep breath, because when had this turned into a fucking dr. phil episode? "and i apologized. i was so upset with myself, with him. and we managed to work things out. but it's never been the same. i think he still has feelings for me but i know he knows better now. he thinks he pushed me away and he absolutely hated that. living without me, i guess. that he'd rather have me as a friend than not having me at all. 

"and that's when i realized i guess. that i didn't want a relationship with harry. as much as i loved him, i didn't _love_ him."

nick had finished his glass of wine what seemed hours ago and instead he was leaning forward on the table, elbows on the porcelain and hand propping up his chin and he looked genuinely interested in what louis had to say. it was weird, the way the sunlight through the clouds hit his face and it framed him perfectly. he looked like a model, if louis hadn't known better he probably would have thought that upon first glance. "it's easy to love harry but it's hard to _love_ him. he fucks up quite easily and sort of leaves you hanging."

"oh? what was your excuse?" 

nick, without batting an eyelash, withouting sucking in a deep breath or letting out a lengthy one or twitching a finger, spoke with a certain fluidity that almost stopped louis' heart the way it was drawn out.

"he told me he was in love with you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feedback is appreciated and encouraged thanks :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he didn't mean to.

louis didn't pretend to be shocked. he didn't pretend to be taken back by the comment. he didn't pretend to be anything except slightly annoyed maybe at harry if anything else. here nick was listening to louis pour his heart and soul into the glass in front of him, not saying a word, just _listening_. this was a man that harry had told _louis_ he may or may not have been in love with, a man that harry was so infatuated with he moved to his area and wore ridiculous outfits all the time and woke up too early for radio and.

harry had to make things difficult without even trying, without even knowing. he just did. he did things and didn't ever think about the consequences because he was so young and naive and he really was the most mature person louis knew. he didn't even need to pretend to sympathize with nick because he _did_. and he felt like shit now knowing he was the reason behind the whole crap show between nick and harry. 

"so i did what any good friend would do and i pushed him away. told him we couldn't be _together_ , you know? and he. well you know what happened. he got upset and he did what harry does best and he ran." nick was so calm about it all, but that was how nick acted best. calm. louis could never be so calm, so collected. he envied nick almost. "and it just so happened that he ran to you, so."

louis felt a bit smug here, but in a wrong sense that caused him to somewhat squirm in his seat which didn't go completely unnoticed.

"i don't hate you for that, by the way. maybe at the time i did because i was all caught up, but don't think that i'm an eleven year old girl who holds grudges for the rest of her life just because someone stole her year six boyfriend. which is incredibly insane anyways. look, louis. you're a great guy. and harry is so lucky to have you if anything as a friend. please don't screw him over just because he loves you."

louis thanked god for the fact that their unkempt waitress had made her way to their table with the tray of food, so glad that for now their conversation could be tabled (louis hoped long enough that nick wouldn't remember to bring it up afterwards). they ate in silence, mostly due to the fact that there really was nothing else to talk about.

there were plenty of things to talk about, though. louis' thoughts attacked his lips, threatened to escape, and each time one seemed to bubble he would catch himself and swallow it down with a bite of (heavily dressed) salad. he _wanted_ to talk to nick was the thing. he was honestly enjoying his company. nick was smart, knew what to say at the right time, had a distinguished radio persona which was a polar opposite from the man who sat in front of him here. and he wasn't unattractive. in fact, louis found him stunning, enticing, appealing. he was impressed, to say the least. maybe the date wasn't anything like he'd expected, but he felt so _natural_ right now. like it was a day to day thing, sitting in the crisp cool air at a cafe with nick, drinking wine and talking about who knows what.

it felt settled down. it felt.

louis didn't slam his fork down, because he didn't do things like that. but he set it down on the table with a force that sort of caused nick to jump at the noise. louis crumpled his napkin and placed it on the table next to his plate, quietly excusing himself to the bathroom without any other words. nick watched him leave, grinning sheepishly like he _knew_ , because he probably did. but he didn't see the almost sudden frown.

"come on zayn, pick up. pick up the phone you lazy- zayn! hi. hey. yeah, i know i never call- yes i realize it's our- zayn i need help." because if anyone could help him, it was zayn. he loved liam and niall and harry but zayn was. zayn was his best friend second only to harry. his partner in crime so to speak. and zayn seemed to always know what to say. it was annoying at times, but. "i'm on that stupid lunch date- yeah the radio host. yeah yes harry- zayn i think i'm settling again." which pretty much quieted zayn's end for a good minute or two, meaning he was thinking of what to say next. always. "i think. i think i'm trying to convince myself to settle _again_ and i think my mind wants me to settle with nick because he's here and we're on a _date_ and we're talking about _relationships_."

and as louis gave it more thought, it wasn't just a date. he'd always felt a weird comfortable around nick. he was one of the only people the band had ever known who he felt real around. nick didn't ask bullshit questions when he interviewed them, he knew how to throw jokes and make fun of people and he never cared what people thought of him in the long run. every time harry had brought nick to a hang, yeah maybe louis felt a little defensive but he also felt dangerous. he felt real. nick was just a person, not a national radio host. louis felt settled around him _all the time_. "son of a bitch, i think i'm settling for nick."

"son of a bitch." louis didn't hear the knock or the opening of the bathroom door over his thoughts. he didn't hear the footsteps and there was no mirror to warn him. he was alone, as far as he knew. and his thoughts were so loud. but he did manage to hear the bathroom door close. slam, rather. 

"zayn i've gotta call you back." he didn't know what to do. he didn't think things like this ever even happend outside of movies and dramatic fictional retellings. he didn't know how to react other than wait two minutes before following nick out of the bathroom. 

when he got to their table, nick was elegantly smoking a cigarette and apart from that, there was no real indication that he'd heard any of louis' conversation with zayn. "i didn't know you still smoked" and nick turned his head to look at louis, a weird look of _something_ in his eyes and louis couldn't quite place it. he reached out his palm, nick shaking the pack into his hand and passing him the lighter as well. louis didn't smoke but he didn't not smoke. he rarely did, if anything.

"so."

if louis could, he'd reach down and strangle the crap out of nick for ever existing, for doing anything. he was pushing it all on louis to explain, and louis wasn't going to be able to _anything_. he brought the chair out from under the table, sitting in it and admiring the now filled wine glass and small plate of fruit in front of his seat where his salad had been maybe fifteen minutes ago. "so. you. and I. I uh. I don't-"

"louis it's fine. you're _settling_ for me? i feel like i should be heavily offended, but i can't. i can't pin point anything about this situation because, to be honest louis and i mean this in the nicest way possible, i don't feel" he paused, swaying hand gestures with the still lit cigarette " _anything_ between us." and yeah, that hurt a little more than louis would admit because while he didn't completely feel anything too _romantic_ , he wouldn't say absolutely _nothing_. "i mean, you just poured your heart and soul out to me about how much you want to settle down and have a real relationship and i honestly think your mind just sort of. put two and two together and figured i was the closest within reach.

"you're a good person louis and i'm flattered, really. you're well fit and you can sing and you've got a strong personality. this was a nice lunch, i enjoyed it. but i foresee issues from both sides that would make any sort of relationship _so_ complicated. trust me. you don't want me to be _the one_." and louis did trust him but he was also sort of pissed off and he never even said anything about nick being _the one_.

they ate their desserts and drank their wine and louis didn't look at nick once but he could feel nick's eyes burning on him, knowing. nick did indeed end up paying for all of lunch as well as louis' cab and wished him well and louis sort of hated him now more than ever. and himself. he hated himself for 'settling' and not just telling nick off and. for just _thinking_ that maybe he was going to have any sort of chance at what he wanted. with anyone. ever. because if a shifty radio host didn't want him, who would?

he didn't answer his own question despite knowing all too well what the answer was. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is INCREDIBLY short compared to the past four but i had to get something up because it was eating me alive ahaha.

"i. i think i'm in love with you. i think. god, i don't know what i think. but it's. no, i definitely. i'm definitely in love with you. shit, louis."

a fucking hilton bathroom. and not like a private hotel room bathroom or anything but the fucking bathroom off to the side in a hallway near the ballroom where they were sort of attempting to wreak havoc. they'd gotten drunk in an actual hotel room, the five of them, after a small charity gig in belfast and had decided to stay the night instead of trying to fly over. it was an extremely last minute thing, considering it was april and their tour started up in less than ten days. 

anyways.

the hotel was rather large and security was hounding every other hall until the boys escaped from their rooms and found one that, well, was quite vacant. they found an empty and spacious ballroom and took turns chasing each other around and sharing a bottle of zayn ended up mixing together and getting drunk off of the high of the fact that they were about to embark on their second fucking tour and it was sort of a big deal. they always got so preachy when it was just the five of them, loving on each other and being sappy especially when drunk. at one point louis felt like his bladder was going to explode so he went off in search for a bathroom, a giggling harry following close behind.

once locked in the single person bathroom, harry had cornered him and crowded him against the door, gently pressing his lips to louis' and kissing him with a fervor. they did this until louis pushed him away, empty threats of "i'll piss myself and you styles, hold your hormones for a good minute or two" and harry turned to face the wall like a toddler. once louis had washed his hands, harry was dwindling in front of the door's floor length mirror. louis came up beside him, lacing their fingers together as he leaned into harry's side. they had become this tighter knit thing, not quite a relationship and definitely not a secret, but not quite friends with benefits type thing either. after harry's terrible off with nick and louis' heartfelt break up with eleanor, they sort of. fell together. and here they were, standing side by side like an old married couple in a fucking hilton bathroom, squeezing each other's hand and smiling through the alcohol haze.

and that's when harry sort of. well. confessed.

it had taken louis by surprise. he knew harry loved him, shit he loved harry too. but he didn't ever think that harry might have _loved_ him. and he didn't know if he _loved_ him back.

harry had seemed to get the memo by louis' lack of any sort of immediate answer and went to dropping his hand from the older boy's. "alright then." and without any other sort of word, he quietly unlocked the door and slipped out of the bathroom, leaving louis staring at the mirror. alone. hand still warm, still tingling. the air still thick.

but that was april and here they were in august and at some point in between those months, louis trapped harry and apologized and told him how much he loved him but that he didn't _love_ him and harry understood and they fell back together. although it had become so much different. but louis was okay with that and so was harry. kind of. 

it had scared louis so much, is what he realized. having someone tell him they loved him when he wasn't sure if he felt the same. when he had told eleanor he loved her, she returned it immediately and he had been so overjoyed. and when he told her he was no longer in _love_ with her, well, she told him she felt the same. and part of him knew that she _knew_.

he was so fed up with everyone fucking knowing things.

but he missed it, the warmth and inviting aura and excitement from being in a relationship. a real relationship. being able to call someone his significant other and introduce them as such at parties and buy them nice things and take them on fancy dates and show them off to the world and he missed it. 

so as he sat in the cab on the way back to his flat, he thought about nick. obviously. he thought about nick's radio and nick's choice in restaurants and nick's clothing style and nick's ability to reject him so fucking simply that louis didn't have too much time to be too hurt until he was whirled into a conversation as to _why_ , why he could never date louis. 

the silence was deafening and he jumped at the buzzing in his pocket, realizing his phone was going off. he gave a warm smile at the name that popped up.

_haazzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz_

"hi, babe."

" _how was the date?!_ "

"it was- harry, where _are_ you? oh my god please do not tell me you're-"

" _it's a crow's feather, i'll explain it later. talk to me! tell me about the date._ "

he took a deep breath and dove head first into the whole story, obviously leaving out most of the parts where they talked about harry. he told him about the insane getup nick was in, the way he flipped off the waitress, the way he sipped at his wine and the way he was so easy and laid back and lazy about everything. he told him how much he'd actually enjoyed it, up to the part where nick heard him on the phone with zayn and then turned him down. his disappointment was startling. 

" _oh god you are completely gone for him, aren't you?_ "

"no! no, no _god_ no. maybe. not completely. i just." and wow, he felt so weird talking about this to harry. not only was harry in love with him but harry had been in love with nick and they'd been a thing and now louis was thinking about wanting to be a thing with someone and he felt so terrible for harry but. "i'm not completely gone for him considering this is really the first time we'd ever actually hung out alone. but it was. it was nice. it was relaxing. i just wish he wouldn't have-"

" _been such a prick? yeah, i know the feeling. he's kind of bad at that whole smart-ass shit. but look. i'll phone him and stuff and maybe you can go on another date! convince him you're worth it because,_ fuck _, lou. you are worth it. and you need someone who will constantly tell you that, alright?_ " louis felt like crying, only because he knew how true harry's words were. and he wanted to scream at him because harry and the other boys always made him feel worth it, but he knew what harry was insinuating. 

he ended the phone call after promising that he'd stop by tesco's and grab things for dinner (for harry to cook of course) and spent a lazy hour reading the new jk rowling novel and curled up on the couch with their cat to an episode of friends and he smiled when he heard the jingling of keys, the unlocking of the door. harry came in with a bottle of wine and his t-shirt hiked up just a little to show the plastic wrapping around what louis assumed was his brand new inking. harry was so proud, he kissed louis breathless four times before finally lifting the shirt and. 

it was indeed a crow's feather. harry was so fucking proud of it, too. he explained that the crow meant transformation, power, and was also a sign of bad luck. louis punched him playfully in the arm for the last explanation, but also felt too terrible because he knew, he knew that harry felt the way he did because of him. "management's gonna murder you, haz."

after a successful pasta dinner and several glasses of wine, they stripped down and slipped into matching flannel onesies that they'd received a while back, curling into each other on their white bed and breathing deep, in and out. harry talked about his phone call with nick, albeit brief, and promised that he'd said not a word to nick other than the promise of another date.

which sort of lifted louis' spirits, because at least he'd get a second chance. maybe he could prove to nick that he _was_ worth it. he sure as hell wanted to try. 


	6. Chapter 6

nick had taken a deep breath as the car sped off, shoving both his hands into his pockets and strolling leisurely away from the cafe. he knew that any minute now he would be getting a phone call from harry, but he couldn't quite guess what mood harry would be in. harry could be pissed. pissed at nick for turning louis down, pissed at louis for just being louis, pissed at himself for setting up the date. he could be obnoxious and pressing for details he'd assumed louis hadn't shared. or he could be silent. and silent harry was more the deadlier type. silent harry was angry and pressing and passive aggressive and cold. nick had dealt with a silent harry one too many times, absolutely hated it. 

sure enough his phone rang ten minutes later, and nick was barely allowed a word before harry barged into conversation. "so i was thinking maybe you guys should go on another date because louis is really really torn up about all this."

and this is a new harry, because this harry isn't pissed or obnoxious or pressing or silent. this harry is excited. this harry is "harry styles are you getting a tattoo while on the phone with me?" which harry waves off an excuse and begins hammering out details of a second date. "look, haz. he's darling. can't say i don't love every detail about him. but he came on a bit strong, yea? I mean you don't typically go on a first date and hear those words and expect anything less?" 

"he likes you, nick. whether he wants to actually commit to you or what is his thing, but he likes you enough that he's sort of upset he made such an idiot of himself. he told me himself, okay? he wants to go on a second date and he wants to just. show you. that he can be normal? and, like. not throw around words like 'settling' or 'commitment' or 'marriage' or whatever the fuck you guys actually talked about." there's a muffled whirring sound and nick thinks harry's put his hand over the mic, can hear him wince over the phone. "kay i gotta go but yeah, just. i'll set this one up, alri'? don't worry about a thing." 

nick does't have time to worry because harry's hung up on him and left him standing at the intersection corner speechless. "fucking unbelievable. both of them" he mutters to himself, shoving his phone into his pocket and carrying himself back towards the rows of houses in the area. 

he really doesn't have time to worry, because seven hours later he's got three texts from harry that are definitely pressing and obnoxious harry.

**19.28** : _Hope you're free tomorrow for lunch again._  
 **19.28** : _Gonna have a car pick you up 'round noon._  
 **19.29** : _Dress v casual xx_

**19.31** : _**v casual???? where r we goin, ladyfingers w/ the queen??**_

**19.32** : _Just trust me._  
 **19.32** : _Louis sends his love._   _xx_

 it was weird to imagine harry planning a date, even weirder to know that it wasn't even _for_ him. harry was planning a date for his two best mates, two best mates that he'd fooled around with both and neither ended very well and now here the two of them were and.

if nick didn't know any better, he was beginning to fool himself into thinking of settling for louis. not. not in a commitment sort of way, god no. but it seemed almost right that the two of them were being pushed together in a weird way. nick was a major fuck up, he'd never deny that. and he could tell maybe louis was too. and in a way, it was weird.

nick thought of the positive aspects of dating louis, if anything. he'd have a fit boyfriend for one, a fit and _famous_ boyfriend. louis seemed to be able to take the piss out of any situation; great sense of humor and mock was a must to be with nick. he couldn't date someone who didn't appreciate his asshole tendencies. and louis _was_ fit. nick appreciated the curve of louis' body, the way it was unlike any others. he could tell louis worked out, could tell maybe once louis had been self conscious about the way that he looked but it was neither here nor there anymore. louis had hawk eyes too, an icy blue that sort of stared and cheekbones that perfectly cut the air around them. and he had a great voice. nick briefly flittered about, wondering what it would be like to hear louis moan and-

and that was obviously enough thinking on his part. "right. cold shower for you nick, you're an old man and it's bed time." which was odd, considering it was a friday night. he didn't have any five am wake up call, he didn't have any work to do for the weekend, and typically he spent friday nights at the clubs or djing or drinking games with aimee (who had disappeared he just now noticed and he thinks she took the dog with her). but now he _did_ have something to do on the weekend. he had a date. this time could be classified as a real date, not a trick or a prank or anything. 

he was nervous, this time.

\--

"what are you planning, harry styles?" louis tipped back the last of his glass of wine, watching suspiciously as harry tapped out message upon message on his phone. louis knew he was texting nick, but he wanted to know _what_ he was texting nick. "what're you saying to him? what is he saying? is he free tomorrow? jesus, harry, tell me _something_."

harry clicked the lock button at the top of his phone, throwing it onto the floor and giving louis a cold stare. "fuck, lou. could you calm down? you're acting like it's the end of the world."

"well, if you would just tell me anything about this date maybe i would stop freaking out so much." which, in his defense, is a reasonable reaction. harry hasn't told him anything, other than the fact that nick had agreed to the second date (louis didn't tell him about the butterflies) and that he'd agreed to give louis a second chance barring louis didn't get down on a fucking knee or something (louis laughed, but it was a careful laugh). 

harry crawled over the sofa, setting louis' wine glass onto the table beside them and holding both of his wrists in his hands. "louis. just trust me. you guys are going to go on a casual date tomorrow, you guys are going to talk about the birds and the bees and music and shopping and rihanna and who knows what else. you're going to have a good time, you're going to like it and he's going to like it, and then you'll see what happens. you have _nothing_ to worry about. nick is a great guy. please, please stop worrying." he brought louis' wrists to his mouth, pecking them both lightly and smiling heartedly. 

and louis would admit that it stopped his nervous stomach if for just the night. he went to sleep eased, really only focusing on what harry had put on tap for them and what he would wear and what nick was going to wear and what they were going to talk about (he crossed harry off of his list, he would _not_ spend a whole day talking about his band mates). 

it was going to be fine. he continued to reassure himself of this, even as he lulled into sleep with harry curled into his side.

everything was going to be fine. 

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is appreciated and encouraged :)


End file.
